Click
by uberogman
Summary: Everyone has their tweaks; the things that make you click. For Craig Tucker, the newest resident of South Park, it's no difference. After being kicked out of his last high school, he has to start up his senior year in a place that may make him lose it. Or will it? With the introduction of new people in his life he realizes perhaps it won't be has bad as he made it out to be. Creek
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever and I hope you like it and enjoy reading it. Please leave a comment and like and follow and what not if you do and I wouldn't mind constructive criticism on things such as grammar and all that jazz. Thank you and please enjoy the read :)

 **Craig's POV**

 _Click._

 _Click._

 _Click._

"Can you stop that?" The obnoxious voice of my younger sister came from the back seat of the car. Glancing over my shoulder past the headrest of the passengers seat I simply smirking and with another 'click' of my tongue piercing against my teeth I faced back toward the empty road, slouched down in my seat and let out a sigh.

"Craig," Ruby whined, pushing her feet into the back of the car seat, annoying me further.

"Shut up, little demon," I retorted.

"Both of you be quiet, we're almost there," my mother scolds, checking the rear view mirror to see if dad was still following in the U-Haul, which he was.

"We wouldn't be here if Craig wasn't kicked out of school because he beat up some kid and was caught smoking," Ruby mumbled not so discretely. Rolling my eyes I put in my headphones and blocked out the voices of mom and my sister arguing whether or not it was my fault we were moving to this crappy little mountain town. I did have to admit, yeah I beat up a kid, but I had a reason. That prick kept badgering me with that stupid shit about how I was wrong and blah, blah, blah. Long story short I kicked his scrawny ass and was then expelled from my third high school (this one in Denver) because I couldn't, as the counselor put it, 'control my anger and perhaps a smaller school could help with that.' Letting out another irritated sigh at the memory I removed my headphones as we passed a sign that read, "Welcome to South Park! Home of the Cows. Pop. 610." Great, just fucking great, I've moved from a city where there were over five hundred thousand people to one where there was less than a thousand. Not to mention the school's team was the cows. The _cows_. By the looks of it I'm not going to play lacrosse or get laid. At least I get to see my cousin Red and -wait...was that fucking snow? Snow on the ground in the middle of summer. I mean it's August but close enough. God, this is dumb.

We soon pulled up to our new house. Two floors, light brown, quaint. Sliding out of the car, I shuffled the blue hat on top of my head and walked over to the back of the car to help mom unload.

"So how much do you wanna bet we're going to be out of here by the end of the month?" I asked her with a slight joking tone as a grab a heavy box labeled ' _Craig's_.'

"Nothing. Remember our deal? You don't get into _any_ kind of trouble and then we'll help you pay for any college you want to go to," she replied, smiling back at me. I couldn't stay angry with her; it wasn't her fault we had to move here. "Besides, you could end up meeting someone," she says following me into the house with a box of her own. Scoffing I set my stuff down by the stairs and shake my head. "I highly doubt that would happen," I respond as dad and Ruby enter.

"Highly doubt what?" my father asks, glancing between my mom and me.

"That Craig would meet someone," mom tells him in a carefree tone. My dad simply replies with an 'oh' before leaving to get more stuff from the U-Haul van. You would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not notice his descending pride in me. From the piercings, tattoos, and bisexuality, he didn't approve. Ruby had left with mom to the kitchen to get dinner started, but not having the appetite to eat suddenly, I just grabbed my crap and took it to my room. Setting the box down and shutting my door I flopped my body down on the mattress, not caring to put the sheets or pillows on my king sized bed. All I wanted to do now was rest, that's it. From moving to having to say even one word to my father, I was exhausted. Maybe I'll walk around tomorrow to see what this little mountain town has in store.


	2. Chapter 2

Craig's POV

There is nothing. There is literally nothing in this town to do. The only place I found of interest so far was my uncle Skeeter's bar. Other than that, nothing. That's what you would except from a small town. From what I've gathered about this place from the past hour is that the adults are much more fucked up than the kids. While I was visiting my uncle and cousin at the bar this guy called Randy Marsh, who's suppose to be related to Jimbo somehow, came in yelling about being PC and cured of his alcoholism so they should drink to celebrate. I feel kinda sorry for the children of that man, not that I would say that out loud. I'm not that much of a feelings type of person, being an introvert. But from what I've seen so far I don't think I'm planning on sticking out much when school starts up. I just want to graduate and get the hell out of Colorado.

I don't know how exactly, but I ended up at a place called "Stark's Pond." No one else is here so this is where I decided to take a break. Taking out my pack of cigarettes I light one and took a slow drag of it. Fucking snow at the end of summer, this is Colorado, not Minnesota. Crossing my arms I stared across the small pond, wanting to stay here for the next few weeks. Right now my dad and I still aren't talking. We haven't for a few weeks since he learned I was expelled. Not my fault he can't stay home for more than three days to keep up with his family. Whatever. Just remembering about a coffee place I saw when walking here, I flicked my cigarette on the ground, smothered it out and started to make my way back to the "ShiTaPa Town." As I was trudging along the sidewalk, my phone went off playing "Mother" by Pink Floyd; it was mom's ringtone. She picked it, not me, but she doesn't do that all the time, let's get that straight.

"Yeah?" I answer, my phone pressing against my ear under the blue earflap of my hat as I pass through the bustling, suddenly crowded sidewalk.

"Craig? I just wanted to tell you that we're having some neighbors for dinner tonight. So only eat out for lunch, okay, honey?" I could tell she was concerned about me. I always feel bad when she subconsciously uses that tone. I know she can't help it; she tries so hard to act like everything is okay.

"Alright," I reply, "but remember if we're having them for supper I like the head the best. With a slice of French silk pie on the side." I could hear her scoff at my dark humor, but I could also tell she was smiling. I was still her little boy that made her happy when dad was away, no matter how it went. Just...don't tell anyone that got it?

"Be home before five-thirty," she tells me as I assure her I will. With a quick 'I love you' from her and a 'you too' mumbled from me we hang up and I notice that the coffee shop is within reach, the name of "Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse" almost like a beacon to me at this point. Thank God, I'm ready to get out of this craziness and relax. Squeezing my way to the door I open it up and scan over the small, quaint shop. It was fairly full, the smell of coffee grounds strong in the air. I loved it, the intoxicating way the scent surrounded you as you went further into the shop, the closest at the register. Standing behind a lady who seemed to be unable to decide what drink her "poopsiekins" would like the most, I took my phone out of my pocket and continued my game of Tetris I had started in the car yesterday on the way to this small town hell as I waited. After about a five-minute wait, the lady left with two extra-large foamy lattes, a chocolate-filled roll, and three bear claws. Pocketing my phone I looked up at the cashier. I was greeted by a bushel of blond hair tied back in a slightly messy ponytail, fair skin, and - whoa, those eyes. They're green, but not a normal set you would find on any person. They complimented him. Just as his bone structure made him stick out in a feminine way, his eyes reversed that, giving him a masculine feel with the dark green sticking out from under the blond bangs. All of a sudden, a wicked tweak came from him, which nearly made me jump as I was snapped back into reality.

"Um, agh, what can I get for you?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'll just have a medium coffee, black," I said, taking a glance at his nametag as I handed him a five. Tweek Tweak, that's what it read. "Huh," I mumbled as he handed me back my change and my drink, nearly dropping it at the noise.

"Gah, what?!" he asks, his tone suddenly more frantic than before. His hands immediately retreated to his apron, tugging at the fabric of the already wrinkled edges. Under his breath I swear I could have heard him muttering something about pressure.

"Hey, dude, calm down," I said lowering my voice so I don't accidentally startle him. "Sorry I just noticed your name." Sorry? Really? What the hell was going on with me? I was being more attentive than usual and I was saying sorry to complete strangers? Dear God help me.

"My name? What? Oh God sorry the pressure," he replied, his fingers moving from the fabric of the apron to the nametag. I would have reached over the counter to pat him on the shoulder and say everything was fine, but I could tell he was the type of person who liked his personal space, maybe a little too much.

"It's...it's fine," I say, taking a pause. "I've never seen that name before. I'm new around here. The name's Craig Tucker." I held out my hand for him to shake but he didn't accept it. I guess I was right, can't blame him. Seriously what is going on with me?

"Oh, okay. Yeah, hi I'm Tweek, or you already know that..." he trailed off at the ending. We stood there silently for a few moments before I realized what I was doing.

"Well, uh, nice to meet ya, Tweek," I finally said, waving at him before turning around to leave.

"You too, dude," I heard Tweek mutter softly. Perhaps things won't be as bad as I thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for the likes and follows! I really am grateful for the amazing support you guys have shown. FYI I'm going to be playing around with different points of view a little bit, so heads up. Also, what did you guys think about the latest episode of South Park. I'm all jaskdlf;jasf. Anyways...on with the story :3

Tweek's POV

Why can't I catch a break? Guh, twitch number one, this is too much pressure, man! Why are buttons so hard to manage? Why is this cotton shirt so itchy all of a sudden? Fuck, I need some coffee. My hands are shaking like crazy here and my parents expect me to be ready in five minutes? That's not enough time! There's _never_ enough time. You get what I mean?

"Tweek? Honey, you better hurry up, okay?" My mom's call snapped me out of my trance, making me stare at myself in the mirror. My usually wild hair was tied back into a semi-neat 'manbun' as it's dubbed with bangs that needed to be trimmed covering my dark green eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul, right? That's what everyone apparently says, so it's gotta be true, unless those people are pathological liars. If it is true, then whoever really looks at me in the eye are gonna see some broken shit in there.

"Yeah mom, I'm almost ready!" I call back, reassuring her that her son hasn't gone off the deep end...yet. I say yet because, I mean c'mon, it's inevitable. It's going to happen to everyone, just at different times. For me it started at an early age. I think I was about four years old when my parents decided that I had ADD or a form of that. Their solution to the fix of that click, coffee. That's the answer for everything, right? According to them it is. Trust me, I love my parents, but they aren't doctors. After years of the coffee not working and the twitches becoming worse, we went to go see an _actual_ professional. The guy said that I had anxiety with high stress levels (no surprise there), and a disorder called benign fasciculation syndrome, or in other words twitching of body muscles. But, that didn't really change anything besides the bathroom cabinet, which is now filled with mom and dad's stuff on one side and my toothbrush, toothpaste, and various bottles of pills on the other. Either way, I was still a "freak that dozed off and had a twitch all the time" at school to some people as the years went on. But, to others, like Token, Clyde, Kenney, Kyle, Stan, and Butters, I was still the same old Tweek Tweak.

They are my friends and talk about going off to college, but honestly I can't imagine that. First of all, it's too much pressure. Secondly I can't leave my parents and I doubt any college would want me. Besides with the major I want to get, art, I doubt I could do anything with it. I barely attract any attention as is. Every other day at the shop is the same. I take the order, exchange the money and give the person their order, hopefully without spilling it. I'm like a ghost. Agh, number two. To everyone I'm that person behind the counter...except for today. That new guy in town, or was he just a passerby? Everything went by so quickly that I forget what he said besides my name and his. Craig Tucker, if you were wondering. But, he actually seemed interested in me. Too bad I don't think I would ever see him again or he would actually take notice of me around his friends. With that constant clicking against his teeth, it wasn't hard to figure out that he had a tongue piercing. I don't even think he realized he was doing that. Kinda like my own tweaks, it's a click I don't realize until someone would tell me that it was happening.

"Tweek!" my father called up the stairs, reminding me it was almost time to go meet the new neighbors. I didn't even sign up for this, dude! They just told me right after I got home from work!

"Arg!" I accidentally reply. Number three. My father takes that as an 'I'm hurrying' and leaves me alone. It's really hard to get ready in a rush when you have so much on your mind. Like that Tucker guy was still there for an odd reason. Why was I so hung up on this? I doubt I would see him again. His blue eyes that shown under his black hair and-no! What am I doing?! I can't be thinking like that! What would my parents say if they knew I liked guys?! They would be so angry! We're a good Roman Catholic family and I can't screw that up. Ugh, so much pressure. I got to finish getting ready now.

Slipping my jacket and shoes on, I make my way downstairs to meet up with my parents. After grabbing the casserole, we head over to the neighbor's house. It's not that far, just one or two houses down, but mom and dad want to welcome them to the neighborhood. Once dad knocks on the door we hear some shuffling around on the inside and then the door is opened to...What? Oh no, it's the one that looks pretty good in blue and yellow! I'm going to look like even more of a fool than before at the coffee shop. Before I could make a run for it, a woman I'm guessing is his mother comes to the door.

"Oh! Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak, right? I'm Laura Tucker, so nice to meet you! Craig, step aside and welcome them in," she greets. Craig obeys silently and holds open the door as mom and dad slowly coax me inside.

Great, there goes my escape plan.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: All I can say is thank thank thank thank thank you soooo much 3 You all are so amazing! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter as you did the others. Also sorry about the little pause in between chapter updates. Personal stuff going on :/

Craig's POV

 _Click._

 _Click._

 _Click._

 _Click._

The constant scrapping of forks against the plates over the already loud talking of mom and Mr. and Mrs. Tweak was like Kanye West's music to my ears. I'm not a Kanye West fan. Looking up from my plate of Whole Foods chicken I noticed that Tweek quickly averted his eyes from me. Feeling a slight smirk cross my face, I decided to remain quiet and I continue to force down the over-priced poultry. I just couldn't help but wonder what's up with him. He's been acting really strange since we came over. It must be the coffee. That stuff is way to strong for my liking. Taking another sneaking glance, I couldn't help but notice Ruby out of the corner of my eye smiling. And that wasn't a good smile.

"What is it?" I ask, turning my attention toward her.

"Nothing," she replies in the tone that _all_ little siblings do when something is obviously going on in that demon spawn mind of theirs. Rolling my eyes and not bothering to continue this conversation I decide to address the blond bundle of nerves known as Tweek Tweak.

"So, Tweek. Where did you get that name?" I asked him, trying to start a possible conversation with him. I'm not even sure why I did that. I'm not exactly the uber-extroverted type of person. It obviously didn't seem as if Tweek was that kind of person either, as he almost fell out of his chair at the sound of my voice addressing him.

"Agh, I don't know. My parents?" he said rushing through it the response, leaving me confused as to if he was being sarcastic with that last statement or not.

"Alright. Do you uh, do anything for fun?" I have no idea why I'm carrying this on. It's as hopeless as with Ruby, but I feel compelled to do so.

"I don't know. I hang out with Clyde and Token." Another rushed response. At least I know he isn't some weird hermit that hides in his room all day jerking off or whatever those people do. Leaning back in my chair, I remain quiet as I courteously finish up the meal and listen to my mom and Tweek's parents talk about the business that goes on in the town. However that didn't keep my attention for long so I quickly excused from the table.

"No going home, Craig," my mother calls after me before I could even take a step toward the door. Sighing, I turn around but before I could reply to her Mr. Tweak speaks up.

"He can go out to the backyard if he wants. It's actually quite warm outside for late-summer."

What? _Warm_? There's fucking snow outside on the ground and it's warm. Without wanting to anger my mom anymore, I exit through the backdoor. Looking behind me to make sure that no one was looking, I take out my pack of cigarettes and light one up. God, I don't know why I'm being so damn _polite_. For an odd reason it's stressing me out. There must being something in the air of this small messed-up mountain town that's making me act this way. Inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with a shaky breath I think, " _At least it can't get worse than what happened in Denver_."

"What happened in Denver?" A familiar voice spoke up which nearly made me fucking burn myself with my cigarette. God, for a shaky bastard Tweek can certainly be the opposite of what he seems. I hadn't realized I'd said that out loud.

"Oh, hey. Nothing, don't worry about it," I muttered, shrugging off the thought of it and returning to the quiet for a moment.

"Okay," he said, pausing to let the quiet sink in before following that up with something I'm fucking sick of hearing. "Smoking's bad for you." Dear God I was about to punch him but that twitch of his made me rethink of why I was in South Park to begin with. Instead I simply took one last inhale of my cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stamping it out.

"Happy?" I asked rhetorically as I exhale slowly.

"Very," he said, this time I know it was sarcastic. That little shit. He was slyer than I took him for. Softly chuckling I stop to stare and take in his small form. It was very much like when we were at the coffee shop. He was slightly hunched over; his arms crossed his olive green shirt at the chest as his long blond hair that was still tied back into a ponytail, manbun if you would, nearly covered up to his eyes. His bottom lip was chapped, probably from the amount of time he was nervously chewing on it at the table and it seemed like he couldn't keep his eyes on something for more than five seconds. When taking all of this in I must have lost myself because Tweek once again broke me out of my small trance.

"Hey man, staring's rude." When did Tweek become the talkative one? Shaking my head and laughing softly I ran my hand through my scuffy bedhead.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I space out a lot." There we go again with the sorry. But, that wasn't a surprise, what Tweek said next took me more by surprise.

"Want to go for a walk? I can tell you don't want to be here," he said, this time taking his sweet time to stare at me. I let him as I stared straight ahead and watched him out of the corner of my eye, pondering whether I should accept or not. But, in the end I said fuck it.

"Sure, why not." The next thing I was aware of was sneaking out through a hole in the fence and we were just walking down the sidewalk side by side. It was quiet, the stars were out in the clear sky as the moon shone bright and all that jazz you get the picture. Neither of us spoke, we just walked slowly, letting the calm take us to whatever place we wanted to be at. I was actually interested in knowing what Tweek was thinking. He didn't seem like the stable extrovert, or stable at all, but something in him made him ask me to walk. I know it's not a big deal, yet we just met. For all he knows I could be a serial killer. I don't bother asking any questions because it seems as if Tweek doesn't want to talk. I can't blame him. At times you just want to stay quiet and enjoy whatever you can in the silence. It wasn't a bad silence either. I'm not entirely sure on how to describe it. We make a circle around the block before stopping at the hole in the fence. Tweek was the one who broke the silence between us.

"It was, agh, nice walking with you." After that he must have assumed I didn't want to say anything because he automatically turned his back on me to reenter his yard, but I stopped him with my response.  
"Yeah, me too. Hey, I was wondering, why did you ask me in the first place? You hardly know me." He stays quiet for a minute or two before answering. It was almost as if the quiet was an unspoken thing between us that wouldn't leave anytime soon.

"Because you looked like you needed one. I know anxiety when I see it. First hand experience," he mumbled in his regular rushed voice before wishing me a goodnight and returning to his house.

Tweek was a mystery.

Looks like I'm going to get some more coffee tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: ha-ha...yeah raise your hand if you procrastinate so much in life. That's me. But, thank you so much for all the support!

kXzEcho: Thank you so much, man! I was a little worried about my portrayal of Tweek because it's not exactly "traditionally" how people portray him, but your compliment makes me much more confident.

Anyway, on with the story

Tweek's POV:

It's been about three weeks since that night with Craig. To be precise, it's been three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours. With about one text conversation a day that Craig initiates. The idea of starting things is terrifying, man. Hey, it's not creepy; it's a habit. I do it with all of my, um, friends. I just don't tell them. I don't see a reason to and they never ask things like 'Hey how long have we known each other?'

But, somehow here I am, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours later, sitting in one of the booths at my family's cafe with Craig, Token and Clyde. Craig, haven met Token and Clyde just a few days ago, seems to fit in everywhere he goes and with everyone he meets. I'm not going to lie, I'm jealous. I guess you could call it envy if you want to. Yet, when you're uncomfortable with everything and everyone, even yourself, you learn that the feeling isn't something that happens once in a while, it happens all the time. You get use to it, trust me, but it's still there.

"Aw, is our little Tweek staring lovingly into Craig's eyes?" Clyde says, as his voice cuts off my inner-rant. Knowing that I am in fact blushing furiously, I duck my head so I avoid eye contact with everyone, mainly Craig. I can't help but think of his blue eyes boring into me. The pressure!

"Arg," I manage out, twitching as I take a giant gulp of my black coffee. ' _Think about something else. Think about something else_ ,' I tell myself repeatedly, trying to desperately ignoring the ongoing conversation. Of course Clyde would, agh, bring it up; he always teases me. Is he freaking psychic or something? It's only been one day but he likes to bring this up for a weird reason. Maybe it's because Craig _had_ to go and mention the amount of times we've already had afternoon coffee together, or the fact that I have his order memorized (it's not that hard when he orders the same thing every time), and Clyde couldn't resist.

"Dude, shut up. Look, you've got Tweek worked up. It's going to take forever to calm him down," Token retorted at Clyde, setting down his pumpkin spice latte. Thank God for Token, I don't know what this group would be like without his level-headedness.

"But Token," Clyde playfully whines. While this banter is going on, I sneak a quick glance at Craig, noticing his poker face at the whole fiasco.

"Hey, at least if I have someone into me it's not because they want shoes," Craig speaks up, making me breath sharply in as I resist a laugh. Despite only meeting a few days ago, Craig basically knows everything that goes on due to Clyde's big mouth. From my hunched form my eyes go from Craig's cool and collected face, which now held a victorious smirk on it to Clyde's, which held a look of terror.

"You swore to not speak of that!" Clyde says as if betrayed. The List ordeal in fourth grade really messed around with a lot of boys for that week. Clyde and Kyle the most, if you were wondering. Kyle got over it, which I'm not surprised about, but Clyde swore to never date anyone from South Park. As both Token and I laugh at Clyde's face, which represented that of a tomato, my nervous tweaks occasionally bothered me. Yet, I know I shouldn't be laughing like this. The excitement of not breathing scares me, which makes me think that I'll keep laughing until I die, which I don't want to die. I'm too young, man! That just tells me to drink more coffee until I get home. I just forgot to take my medicine today, so it's more obvious than ever. Balling my hands into tight fists, I suck in a breath and bit my bottom lip to repress a major tweak (number two of the day if you count this morning at five). This doesn't go unnoticed, as Token's laughing slows down and the attention turns to me.

"Dude, are you okay?" Token asks, careful not to scare me. Ugh, agh, that just, fuck, bugs the crap out of me.

"Yeah, I'm, arg, fine," I manage out through gritted teeth. Glancing between the three of them, as the silence grows more and more thick, Clyde is the first to cut through it.

"Tweakers, if something's wrong, you can tell us. I mean...Token told us about that time Cart man went crazy at his house and shot up his dolls. That repressed shit does stuff." He's right. Managing to cool myself down as much as I could for the moment, I muster up a grin at the thought of Cartman doing such a thing. Token, Clyde and I start to chuckle and then laugh light-heartedly at the memory of the morning after that night. The only one who wasn't laughing at this was Craig, due to the fact that he didn't know who Eric Cartman was. However, that didn't stop us from taking a moment to take in the confused look of Craig's face. His furrowed brow and when the words of 'What the fuck?' left his mouth the only thing we could do at the table was laugh. Well, if you could consider me chuckling lightly laughing along, but I think it counts. After about ten more minutes of stories exchanged between Token and Clyde who ended up trying to up each other with the better story, I decided that I'd better get home and take my medicine. But, I didn't feel like anyone wanted me to interrupt, so I tried to silently slide out of the booth, but obviously that didn't work out.

"Are you leaving, Tweak? If you're heading home, I think I will to, since I won't be bored," Craig said, basically inviting himself along. I don't mind, but I do. It's confusing, I know, but it's just...me, I guess.

"Age, okay," I simply respond. Hearing an 'ohm' coming from Clyde as Craig and I leave, I notice that Craig flicks off Clyde, in a joking manner, I think, but anyway I smile. As Craig and I start to walk, we let the silence lay in comfortably. This has become a tradition, if you could consider it that. If I'm honest, I want to keep this up when the school years starts in one week. Ugh! I doubt it would happen! The thought of that would make too much pressure for me! Crap!

"Well, if it isn't Tweek the freak," a voice taunted, making my heart stop as well as my stride. One word comes to mind at that voice; Cartman. That insult seemed to make Craig stop as well, his stance becoming stiff and. protective? No, not protective. Either way, he turns around, steps in front of me and stares down Cartman.

"What's that, fatass?" he fires back, his voice low.

"Is this your new bodyguard, Tweek? Fucking weak," Cartman responds, cracking his knuckles. He makes a move toward Craig, however he's a rhino, only running forward as Craig sidesteps and continues to walk, ignoring the threats that follow Cartman, who is now on the ground.

"You didn't have to stand up for me," I mutter, bowing my head. I'm such a burden. I want to explain that he doesn't need to do anything for me, especially since it's inevitable that Cartman will bully me, but I can't find the words right now. What just happened?

"I wanted to. Also, when you get home, take your meds. And then let's play some Assassin's Creed and cheesy movies, okay?" Craig says, as if the run-in didn't happen. Does he really care? Agh, I decide to leave the questions alone with one word.

"Okay."


End file.
